Tag: Mizzou

I have read endless articles about the daily injustices black communities face. All fill me with a pang of sadness, but more importantly, a desire for empathy and change.
The recent events at the University of Missouri (“Mizzou”) complete yet another chapter in the American black narrative, one marked by unimaginable suffering.
It is sickening to know that people’s demands for safety are addressed only by putting said safety at stake through protests and hunger strikes that often turn sour. We believe that the administrations at our schools have our best interests at heart, but for many, that is not the case.
The now ex-President of Mizzou, Tim Wolfe, did not act on the requests and pleas of his students, all of whom had legitimate grievances. Students complained about feeling unsafe on campus and alienated by the school’s racially disproportional makeup.
Several black students protested about their unmet needs in the homecoming parade. They halted Wolfe’s vehicle temporarily, but that is the furthest extent of their success.
His apathy is a reflection of how a majority of Americans feel about racism. This lack of understanding and its ramifications disgusts me.
At the same time, I harbor immense guilt for the prejudices I carry. I am an extension of the collective racist pysche that continues to define American society.
To be black means to live in a world where you are barred and prevented from living normally. This is the current state we find ourselves in fifty-one years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Such is the situation that black students tried to alter at Mizzou.
To some degree, they were successful. The university’s president and chancellor soon left their posts amid boycotts by the football team and certain professors.
Sadly, once-explicit forms of racism have transmuted into implicit (and often subconscious) means of discrimination, all of which function through continued insularity.
Even if a safe space is created for black students, the opposition’s views are not eliminated. Prejudice is rooted so deeply into our minds that we are often incapable of recognizing them.
To this day, I still discover how my biases manifest themselves in small actions and thoughts. By writing this piece, I do not feel absolved of any guilt or shame. Rather, I feel a stronger sense to confront my judgments and do my part in this fight for equality.
I stand with the students of Mizzou and all others who face discrimination. Granted, I can’t do much, but in working towards gaining a better understanding, my desire for change burns even more feverishly.